Dear Reader,
In the weeks after October 7th when the ongoing genocide against the Palestinian people spiraled to unprecedented levels of horror, my marriage was at it’s breaking point. I didn't know it at the time, but the mounting arguments were more than just a “rough patch.” They were symptoms of divorce. At one point, I remember asking X for peace in our home because there were bigger problems at bay. A war overseas was brewing.
Each morning during that time, I awoke for Fajr and immediately checked IG to see the atrocities that occurred while I was asleep. The result was entering each day in a state of discontent, deep sadness, and anxiety. I knew it was unhealthy to spend so much time absorbed in the news and social media, but I wanted to be witness to what was happening. I knew we were in a pivotal, devastating moment in history, and I didn’t want to hide my head under a pillow while it unfolded. I wanted to see the massacres just one time, in real time, to understand what was unfolding so that I could do my part to advocate for a ceasefire.
I posted, shared, wrote an article, went to protests, woke up for tahajjud, shared documentaries and books on the subject with family and friends. I did everything I could to possibly feel like I was doing something, even though in the grand scheme of things it was nothing.
X on the other hand wasn’t on the same wavelength. He didn’t feel compelled to shout in the streets, or call his state rep, or even watch the news on a consistent basis like I did. While I did acknowledge and appreciate that he got up for tahajjud to pray for Gaza, I was saddened that he didn’t feel the same rage and despair that I felt. Maybe his mind was too focused on ending our marriage, or maybe his apathy to the evils of the world just made him complacent.
I’ll never know.
But what I do know is if I ever get married again, it will be to someone that feels and expresses rage when witnessing injustice. I need that person to not only pray for the victims of injustice, but to show up for them at the rallies, join the board of supervisors meetings, write the blogs, and re-share the posts calling for change. I need someone that will discuss the hard issues at home and in public, and not be afraid of the repercussions. I need my future husband to be there in full-force to try to take action in the face of evil.
My yearning to be with someone who demonstrates this type of advocacy comes from Islamic teachings. There is the well known hadith that calls us to take action in the face of injustice:
Abu Sa’id al-Khudri reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said:
“Whoever among you sees evil, let him change it with his hand. If he cannot do so, then with his tongue. If he cannot do so, then with his heart, which is the weakest level of faith.”
Source: Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim 49
This hadith taught me that it isn’t enough to just pray and hope for change. We must take action. Without action there is no possibility for change.
I live by this hadith. In my career as an attorney for the last eight years, and in my second career as a writer, I do my best to change evil with my hand, my tongue and my pen. While I recognize that not everyone is an activist, and not everyone feels the same courage to go out in public to demonstrate support for very politically charged topics, I believe we can all take the time amongst our circle of friends and family to discuss the difficult things and do whatever we can do to be a force of positive change.
Palestine also taught me about having faith. I have watched countless videos of people from Gaza who have lost all their family members and yet they remain devoted to Allah. They say things like “it’s Allah’s will… Allah will bring justice… Allah is in control.” They always remember Allah. They always remember to find strength by relying on Allah and believing in the idea that the innocent souls, the martyred souls will return to Him in peace.
Every time I watch their videos where they are redirecting their pain, I gain hope and remember where it is I am supposed to channel my own grief. The grief I have over the death of thousands and thousands of innocent lives, the grief I have over the moral desecration of the leadership of this country, and of course the grief I still carry over the love lost and future I’ll never have with someone who promised me the world, must be redirected to prayer.
I pray Palestine is freed. I pray the people of the United States are freed from the chains of tyranny that keep them silenced and prevent them from doing good. Lastly, I pray for myself. I pray that as I continue my healing journey, I can continue taking steps to achieving my dreams, and I pray that along the way I’ll meet someone new one day soon.
Xo,
ND